Disclaimer: These characters, with the exception of some new faces, are not my properties. They are borrowed briefly and will be returned as soon as the story ends. The views expressed in this story are not necessarily those of my own. These characters want their own way, and most of the time, I have to let them. :)
Author's Note: Again, I am posting an old story rescued from my defunct website. This one is an experimental fic - written in second person point of view. And, as far as I know, the point of view character doesn't seem all that popular, either. Anyway, I'll just post this before I lose my courage. And it probably should be centavo in the title, but I like penny better. ^^;
A Penny for Your Clue
What would you do if you were in love with a certain masked outlaw? Surely, you would want to learn more about him. It has been a challenge so far since he let you see relatively little of himself. But something has happened, and you are determined, more than ever, to find out the identity of this mysterious bandit.
You envision a masquerade ball with all in attendance dressed in the same type of clothing as the type the elusive masked hero always wears. As if this is not enough to identify the real masked bandit, there would also be a fencing competition, for which the winner would have a privilege of spending a day in your company.
Excited, you call up your trusted maid and recount your plan to her.
"Pardon, Senorita," your maid begins hesitantly, "but would it not be wiser to wait until your father returns?"
"That is precisely the reason I want to host the ball now," you reply. "If Father is home, he will surely talk me out of my plan." You do not say it, but you know you would have no choice but to obey your father if he does not approve of the ball.
With your father's vast connections, words get out quickly about the masquerade ball. Many eligible caballeros assure you that they will be presented at the ball. As the preparation is underway, you wonder if the ball is a good idea. It is unlike you to go around and give hope to unsuspected young men just because you want to know who the masked man really is.
"Senorita, you look troubled," a concerned voice breaks in gently.
Surprised, you look up and find yourself staring into a pair of deep, gorgeous eyes, which always twinkle merrily.
"Buenas Tardes, Senor." You offer your hand, which he takes and presses to his lips. "I was just thinking about the ball. You will surely come, won't you?" You look expectantly at him.
The handsome caballero smiles brightly.
"I certainly would not miss anything for fun, least of all a ball with a pretty and charming senorita such as yourself."
You blush slightly at his compliment. Many men have said something similar, but somehow you feel those flowery compliments were empty and hollow, lacking the sincerity you find in the young don's compliment just now.
"Do you plan to invite our mutual friend, the notorious troublemaker?" your companion asks.
You have to hide a smile as you think of the person he is referring to.
"I already did. Let's hope he won't cause any trouble at the ball."
"I will throw him out myself if he dares," the caballero announces.
For a moment, you think you see a dangerous look on his face, a look of someone who could do serious damages if he so chooses, but it quickly disappears, replaced by a pleasant expression he normally wears.
"No, Senor. Allow me, the hostess, a pleasure of asking him to leave if he does, indeed, stir up troubles," you say teasingly.
"It will be a perfect opportunity for his prank, though, if he still has the costume of that masked scoundrel," your companion muses, somewhat distractedly.
"Oh, that. Everyone invited is supposed to dress that way…" You leave it unstated, but you clearly imply that you want the caballero before you to come to the masquerade in costume.
"Not me, Senorita." He holds up both hands in protest. "I would rather die before succumb to the rage of that black menace. He made it very clear that he would not tolerate imitators."
You are about to ask if he was around when the masked bandit made that particular threat since you do not recall seeing him there, then shake your head. It was probably you yourself who told the caballero of what happened.
"It is late," the young don exclaims as he looks at his pocket watch. "You must excuse me, Senorita. I have to run some errand for my father."
You wish he could stay longer, but you would not tell him to neglect his duty as a son.
"I will see you at the ball. Please send your father my regards."
"I will do that. Adios." With that he takes his leave.
It is the night of the masquerade ball. Everyone is having a good time. You, the hostess, are surrounded by many eager young men, all dressed in the black costumes. You admit it then that it is indeed a bad idea to have your guests dressed similarly, especially when none of them is the man you seek.
Since the first plan has failed, you proceed to the second plan you have for the night: the fencing competition. Well, this one does not seem to turn out as planned either. You watch with a bored expression on your face as caballeros after caballeros fence, mostly awkwardly like they have never handled the blades before. There are only a few good fencers. One of them is the practical joker, the notorious friend of the handsome caballero with whom you had a conversation a few days back. But still, the joker would be no match for the real masked outlaw, whose appearance you wait for with growing anxiety.
And where is the young don anyway? Anyone who knows him would say he probably hides somewhere in the shadow from the spectacle of a sword fight, even when the blood is not actually drawn. You find it strange that you have hardly noticed his whereabouts all evening. You must be more preoccupied than you thought!
The sound of a sword clanking on the floor returns you to your surroundings. A man presses the pointed tip of his sword at his opponent's throat.
"I yield, Senor," the other man gasps.
"Good. So I am the winner, right?" the man with the sword asks you.
You nod mechanically, then catch yourself.
"You are not him!"
"Who?" the winner asks.
"Me." A voice rings out. Heads turn in the direction of the voice. Sitting on a branch of a tree is the real masked swordsman.
The people begin to murmur among themselves, a standard reaction when they encounter this famous personage. Meanwhile, the elusive masked bandit jumps down gracefully and walks toward you, causing the winner to eye him suspiciously.
"Don't you try any trick. I won this contest fair and square."
The masked man looks amusedly at the winner, obviously trying not to laugh at his threat.
"You have nothing to worry about, Senor. I'm merely here to have a few words with the senorita, in private if no one minds."
You are certain that more than a few persons mind, but they would not dare raise their blades against the best swordsman in the territory.
"I'm glad you come, Senor," you say when both of you are alone.
"As I understand, Senorita, in this ball, people are dressed in attires similar to mine, and there must have been a fencing contest," the masked hero states matter-of-factly. "Am I correct in assuming that this masquerade ball has been your attempt to contact me?"
"You are right," you admit, ashamed. "I know it was selfish of me, but I didn't know any other way to get your attention."
"Now that you have my complete attention, what do you intend to do next?" he asks. His tone was not unkindly, but somewhat strained.
You take a deep breath, praying for courage to say what you have been practicing for the past few days.
"I'm sorry, Senor, but our relationship cannot go on this way. I hardly know anything about you. However, I never expect you to fully reveal everything about yourself. You are a man of secrets, mysteries, and to be honest, I am fascinated by them…" you pause, feeling that you have taken a roundabout way again.
The masked man decides to break the silence.
"It's nice to hear that you actually find my secrets interesting! But do go on, for I would like to know what urgent matters prompted you to contact me."
You smile gratefully at him, then continue.
"I have said that I love you, no matter who you turn out to be, but I must be lying if I say that I still have the same belief now. The ball, as you see, is my failed attempt to uncover your identity…"
"You could have just said so," the masked outlaw interrupts. "If you really want to, I will let you know my identity."
You are taken back. "That was not what you said when I asked you some time ago."
"Things are different now." He shrugs carelessly. "Back then I was hopelessly in love with you."
"Am I correct in my assumption that you don't love me anymore?" you ask, your voice betraying none of your feelings.
"Forgive me for being blunt, Senorita, but I believe I fell out of love with you. The person behind this mask, however, still very much cares for you as a friend."
Relieved, you suddenly laugh. "I am glad that you no longer love me, because I realized just before this ball that all these times, I had not been in love with you. My father often warns me that I fell in love with the legend, not the man, and it appeared that he is right. I need to tell you this because it is not fair for you to remain attached to me while I cannot return the feelings."
The masked man nods in understanding. "I would have to tell you to look elsewhere too if you are still in love with me. But there is no need to worry about that now." Then he laughs. "Wonder how our fathers think alike. My father also warned me of the same thing your father did and how my "infatuation" might interfere with my fight for justice." He sighs. "Seriously, Senorita, you have been a good friend, and I would not trade our friendship for anything."
Something seems to strike a cord in your body. Your eyes widen. Everything makes sense now.
"Of course, we are good friends. I must be blinded not to see that it is you all along." You smile at him, winking.
"You are not blind, Senorita. I didn't exactly make it easy to figure out, did I?" The masked outlaw grins merrily. "But it seems that your attempt is a success after all."
"It is," you agree. "Now, for deceiving me, I want you to come here tomorrow, as yourself, and take me to the play I'm dying to see."
"As you wish, senorita." The object of your one-time affection bows gallantly. "But I'm sure our practical joker would not want to be left out, so if you will extend your invitation."
"All right, Senor. If you must insist on bringing him along to spoil our fun, fine!" you say with mock horror, but both of you flash each other a knowing look. The next day would be like the old time, where the three of you will be enjoying yourselves.
"What about that guy, the one who won the competition?"
Count on the astute mind of the masked man to remind you of the fencing winner!
"Oh him!" You slap your forehead. "He can come with us tomorrow, if you don't mind."
"I don't mind, but after I'm through with him, he probably wishes he didn't tag along." The masked bandit grins devilishly.
"Oh, you scoundrel! I can't handle you. Pray find someone who can!"
"Come on, Senorita." He picks you up without warning and dances around playfully. You try to tell him to let you down, but the voice dies in your throat. The man is impossible, but he is so likeable.
As it turns out, the winner is content with only talking to you the rest of that night. Apparently he hears from some undisclosed source, although you have a sneaky suspicion who that source might be, that you will be with two formidable caballeros on the next day, so he basically backs out.
After the ball, you are at the door to bid your guests farewell. Your eyes light up as you see the handsome caballero walking out with his friend the practical joker.
"Gracias, Senorita. This has been a fun night," the joker says appreciatively.
'A joker has a way of bending the truth,' you note. The practical joker has been beaten in the sword fight, and in your opinion, that could hardly qualify as "fun." But then again, he could be referring to other things, or says that just to please you.
"Unlike you, I'm bored," complains his companion. "Let's just go home."
The joker looks pitifully at his friend. "That's because you can't fence, and had to sit in the corner reading."
"Is it my fault that I dislike any art of violence? Sword…" The young don shudders, unable to go on. It is obvious to anyone that he is afraid of a mere mention of a sword fight.
"Senorita." The practical joker turns to you. "My friend here needs some excitement in his dull life. Next time please consider inviting some of your female friends over instead of having us men all fight for your attention."
This guy lives up to another part of his name; he is actually practical in his suggestion!
"I will consider your suggestion, Senor," you say. "After tonight, I have no desire to see anyone in that black costume again, except the man himself."
The young don catches your eyes and nods almost imperceptibly. Pleased, you nod back, also trying to be discreet, but perhaps you don't succeed too well since the practical joker looks at you with a puzzled expression on his face.
"Did I miss something here?"
The caballero slaps the bewildered joker on the back good-naturedly. "The senorita is only tired." Then he turns to address you, "Don't forget, Senorita, tomorrow morning at ten o'clock."
"Ten it is. Buenas Noches." You wave to him.
"Buenas Noches, Senorita." He waves back, then leads his even more confused friend away.
You know the next day would certainly be enjoyable. Now that you have solved the mystery of the masked man, you could start something else, like looking for a potential suitor. Your father would be proud to learn that you no longer wait for a masked bandit to sweep you off your feet.
End
Author's End Note: Thank you for reading. :) And I know this story has too many adverbs. I hope I can avoid using them in stories I'll hopefully write in the future.